Happy 2012

A quick review of the last day of my 2011, and the year in general:

Woke up wishing I had another appointment with my old chiropractor in the US.
2011 had been a year of more doctor visits than I can remember. Between the chiropractor, the gastric annoyances, the flu-like symptoms that included something like an ear-infection, I think I'm finally hearing my body tell me, you're not doing the best you can to take care of yourself.

That, and realising I'm 25. Still a young pup to most of my friends, but I can't help remembering that when I was younger, I had set goals to have had achieved more by this age... And I'm not quite there yet.

But the crazy thing is, even though those goals that I set way back when I was a wee lass have yet to been achieved, I've had so many more crazy adventures than I could ever dream of.


Stefan asked Kathrin and I at breakfast this morning if we had any reflections on the year. This has been one of those years that feels like a big wave came through and left me no time to catch a breath. The wave was fantastic to ride, but I could have done with a little less adrenaline.

So no, I haven't really had time to reflect. The year has been fantastic in so many ways, but also so disappointing in so many others.


We went in the afternoon to look at a place that could be a possibility for me to rent.
2011 had been a year of so much moving and transition. Between living off the couch in Becca and Jenny's apartment, packing up 7 years of life in Anderson, packing to house- or pet-sit for a friend for a few days, packing to move Amanda out to Colorado and the 10-day adventure in Oregon, having more garage sales than I can remember, selling faithful Cuddy the Hyundai that I had practically lived out of since the day I got her, moving back to my parents' in Singapore for about 5 weeks and trying to relearn what it's like to have a bank account and do other grown-up stuff in Singapore, and then finally moving to Auckland but still waiting for answers with the visa... Suffice to say, I'm ready for a bit more stability in my life now.

Living with Kathrin and Stefan has been a great arrangement, but I'm ready for a space to call my own now after a year of so much moving around.


31 December 2011 ended with a night of games, snacks and (trying to watch) fireworks.
Food and games had always been a part of seminary culture. But 2011 also saw an unfinished game of Ecuador Monopoly that will have to be on hold for a while till the next time I get to hang out with the Robertsons.

And 2011, I got to watch the 4th of July fireworks in St Helen's, National Day fireworks on TV in Singapore, blow some up with friends on Guy Fawkes' day in Te Atatu.


So yes, 2011 has been a crazy year.
I've experienced bigger disappointments and anger.
I've been on a plane more times than any other year that I can remember.
I've said more goodbyes than I've wanted in Colorado, Anderson and Oregon.
I've sunk even deeper roots in Singapore.
I've met heaps of new crazies in Auckland.


Here's to a 2012 with even more crazy emotional roller-coasters ahead, and even more so to a crazy God whose faithfulness leaves me speechless.


Happy 2012, everyone. Love and peace to you and yours.

Pacific Northwest Adventures Part 2: Friends

It was probably around 11 pm or so when Bill and Mary had just dropped me off at PDX. I was getting caught up on my social media updates and was starting to work on my next blog when from the corner of my eye, I saw him.

Could it be...?

And then she followed along behind him with her red carry-on luggage. Yup, it was them. The same couple that had travelled the same itinerary as I did only eleven days ago and found ourselves stranded in the MSP airport for seven hours.

We got to talking when she asked if I taught. It's not the first time I've been asked that question by a random stranger, so apparently I look/dress like I'm in the education field. Or something. Anyhow, she found out I was moving to New Zealand soon, and that I lived in Anderson but I was originally born in Singapore. To which she responded with, "You know, you meet lots of people at the airport, some of them, like you, just have fascinating stories."

I guess I've officially joined the ranks of the "cool airport gang." Or something.

But that brought me back to a conversation I had almost continually with Mary over the weekend that I was in Woodburn. She kept pointing out that I knew a lot of Church of God people, which... in all honesty, made me a little squirmy. It's not that I mind the association as much as... I don't like being one of those name-droppers. I don't like claiming to know people just to impress others that I'm well-connected.

I realised this during NAC week. I was doing a lot more networking than I was really comfortable with, because I hate acting like I know people when the truth is I've only had a 5-minute conversation with them, probably talking about something or someone we had in common, but not really about either of us.

And I think that's why more than anything else, I HATE networking and the whole fundraising thing because all that people want to hear is "the ministry." And the problem is I'm still having a hard time detaching myself from "the ministry" because what I do flows out of me, not out of an obligation to a to-do list.

But as I think about it some more, I'm not sure I mind having that problem. Because the truth is (at the risk of sounding arrogant and full-of-myself ), I don't see myself being separated from my "ministry." And the problem with networking is that I'm not really being myself if I have to take myself out of the equation to simply talk about the trivial things like the weather or the speaker of last evening's service.

Which is why, as much as it terrifies me to acknowledge this, I do know people. Which is why, while I was in Oregon, I did see a lot of people, but these were also people that taught me things.

So thank you.
...Thank you to Arthur and Judy, for helping me see that sometimes when two paths diverge, the one that is less traveled is really the one that walks the fine line to between holding on to and breaking apart from tradition.
...Thank you to the Shrout/Hodges families, for showing me how families work together to involve everyone, even the rowdy kids that could potentially make a wedding less than perfect.
...Thank you to the Marbles, for showing me that families can work efficiently together in times of crisis, and that hospitality sometimes goes beyond simply providing room and board.
...Thank you to Perry and Carla, for the friendships that happen almost immediately, and for such acceptance into the forever family.
...Thank you to Stephanie and Brett, for showing me that friendships do have the ability to transcend time and space, and that whenever we see each other again, the friendships will still be there.
...Thank you to Bill and Mary, for giving me space time and time again, even if it's once every two years or so, and for asking and noticing things that I thought were trivial.
...Thank you to Randee, for long conversations, for time for friendships to be rekindled, and especially for reminding me that Christ never intended for the Gospel to be safe.
...Thank you to Sean, for friendships that don't ask too many complicated questions, and for always being available and wanting to simply hang out.

These are the people I know in the Pacific Northwest. And yes, I do know them.

Pacific Northwest Adventures Part 1: Airports

Today marks day 10 of my adventures in the Pacific Northwest. I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

Someday, I will live here.

But that's not exactly the point of this entry.

Wednesday morning was the beginning of something I had been looking forward to since the day I knew I would be able to make this trip. This was to be my graduation gift to myself. Prior to this trip, I've been out this way three other times, and loved it every time I'm out here. The only difference this time is that I find myself repeating over and over again, "Don't over-romanticize the PacNW. You've always been here on vacation, so your perception of this place will probably be rose-coloured."

Well, naturally when I ended up spending seven hours at the Minneapolis/St Paul airport because of flight delays, I was irritated. A part of me still wanted to be in Anderson, knowing that the hustle and bustle of the North American Convention of the Church of God was still going on. Another part of me wished I was already at PDX, just because I've always loved being here.

All at the same time, given that airports and airplanes have become a second home after Singapore, Anderson and Berlin all lumped into one, I got comfortable a little too quickly, then realised, "Oh crap. Now I have to deal with myself."

Sure, there had been a lot of highs and lows within the span of the few days prior to Wednesday. But it was there that I started grieving how airports shouldn't really feel like home, but it did. Airports are transitional places; and no one should live life being comfortable with transitions. At least, that's what I think.

And yet the reality of my life is exactly that. The in-between times of coming and going shouldn't be comfortable, but yet I've gotten used to them. But at the same time, do I look forward to going? Yes. Do I ever want to leave? No.

There is a sense that, "For every beginning there is an ending... and for every ending there is a beginning." (Thanks, Jacquie Gross) Every transition brings with it a deep sense of celebration of things to come, and also a deep sense of mourning the things that are left behind. Every transition brings with it a sense of guilt as I try to embrace celebrating the things to come. Because even while I'm look forward to things that are ahead, I don't stop mourning the things that are left behind.

I've often asked myself if I'm simply in over my head with being emotional. But the truth is, I mourn not simply because I don't know when I will see the ones I'm leaving behind again. Heck, I'm not a person that can stay put in one place for a long time, so I might eventually find my way back to some of these old haunts with these good ol' souls again. But I'm starting to wonder if the time of separation between now and "until next time" is in its essence a reflection of the grief of "eternal" separation. If I have loved the ones in the "now" the way Christ would have, even if I knew for sure there was a "next time," the time between "now" and "next time" should be hellish, right? (Let's leave my theology of hell and universality for another time, k?)

I'm not saying that Christ allows suffering of this nature, but... I kind of am. I've been thinking today too, that I've never encountered any kind of theology of suffering that I've wholeheartedly agree with. It's either been packed away neatly in a box as, "If we are TRULY in Christ, we will have no suffering because Christ's burden is easy and light," or as "If we are TRULY serving Christ, then we should suffer for Jesus." And quite frankly, I'm not ok with either.

But maybe that's just because I have a twisted theology of suffering that says you have to suffer through your theology of suffering in order for it to 1) make sense; 2) be ok with where you land with it.

Wow, this post got nerdy again. I don't apologize.